


A vacancy I can't escape

by luctoretemergo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam doesn't die, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Getting Back Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Unbury Your Gays, sam holt is a good man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-28 04:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luctoretemergo/pseuds/luctoretemergo
Summary: When the Galra attack Earth, Sam Holt makes the decision to keep as many members of the Garrison alive as he can. Adam lives and tries to keep living with the singular hope that Voltron wasn't destroyed.A fix-it fic of sorts that follows Adam during the Galra's occupation of Earth and Voltron's eventual return. Ignores a lot of Season 7 cannon.





	1. Alpha Team

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by a roleplay between one of my good friends and I that we started immediately after seeing the utter shit-show that was how Adam was treated. It is going to start off mostly Adam-centric and include a lot of my ideas about who Adam is and what kind of person he would be. Therefore the first two-three chapters may be rather slow and just adaptions of what happen in the show to include Adam, but I promise it will pick up and have a lot of Adashi in it. 
> 
> I'm sure dozens of other people have had the same idea as me. But, well, I gotta get all this energy and all these feels about Adam out somehow and this is the best way I know how! 
> 
> Thank you for reading !

_ Inhale. Exhale.  _

 

He curls his fingers around the familiar controls of the ship, hands loose but ready. The sound of gunfire and war not more than a distant echo outside of the barrier a few hundred feet away from his ship. The sounds of shouting and ships roaring to life fade into the background of his mind as he tries to find his focus.

 

_ Inhale. Exhale. _

 

He opens his eyes, watching through the orange-colored energy as the strange looking ships fire down upon them relentlessly. The space around the garrison is being destroyed with every passing moment. He tightens his hands on the controls, ready, eager. He won’t let his home fall today. He wants there to still be a home for Takashi to come back to when he finally makes it back to Earth.

 

_ Inhale. Exhale.  _

 

_ “All pilots prepare to launch,”  _ Admiral Sanda’s voice crackles through the intercom on his helmet.  _ “Lieutenant Wohali, your team will launch first.”  _

 

“Understood, Alpha team is ready,” he responds, his fingers deftly moving over the controls of his ship, readying it for launch in a way he’s done thousands of times before.

 

He waits for the orders to launch. He expects them. But they don’t come, not right away. The silence stretches on long and uncomfortable, until the world starts to come back into focus. Adam looks around the airfield and sees that no ships are launching. He wonders if there’s a malfunction opening up the barrier. His grip on the controls tighten and loosen reflexively to keep himself from growing relaxed before they launch. 

 

The launch doesn’t come.

 

_ “Lieutenant Wohali stand down, we are sending out the MFE ships first and you will only provide back up,” _ Sam Holt’s voice fills his ear instead, firm and confident giving orders he likely has no place to issue. 

 

He hesitates for a moment before responding. “Yes sir, may I ask why the change in plans?” Adam had been told they would fly by their old standards until the MFE’s could be fully tested or mass produced. 

 

_ “We aren’t sending you all to your death, that’s why. Prepare to launch in five,”  _ Sam responds his voice clipped but not unkind.

 

“Understood,” Adam responds, letting his head hit the back of his seat. A ball of tension unravels in his chest as he waits for his orders. 

 

A thought hits him that leaves him nearly dizzy with joy. 

 

He might get to see Takashi come home after all.

 

Five minutes later the MFE ships are ready for launch. Sam Holt’s voice sounds out in his ear once more.  _ “Alpha team prepare for launch and be careful out there, no unnecessary risks.”  _

 

The barrier opens and Adam is the first ship out after the MFE’s. The sky is a chaotic painting of purple energy, dark colored ship, and the smoke from where the canons have laid low the world around the barrier. 

 

Inhale. Exhale. 

 

“Alpha team on me, keep sharp - we aren’t losing anyone today,” Adam’s command is sharp as they dive into the fray his heart  beating wildly in his chest as he makes the first sharp turn to avoid the spray of cannon fire.


	2. Stranded, but not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are always causalities in war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another Adam-centric chapter, this one and the next are going to be basically all Adam so I apologize if anyone really wants to hear about anyone else because it just isn't going to happen. But it is just the first three which focus on him and after that it blows up to the whole cast ! ( Oh god that's so many people - I am going to die writing those chapters )
> 
> Small trigger warning for a vague description of injuries, nothing too specific but injuries are mentioned.

Despite Sam’s orders, people die in the initial attacks. The Galra are simply too advanced for them to fight back and not take any losses. But the MFE ships prove to be invaluable. They provide cover while the less advanced ships take shots and slowly whittle down the fighters near the particle barrier. 

 

The particle barrier doesn’t fall, the Garrison is safe for the time being. 

 

Alpha team loses three members in the process. Adam’s ship is shot down near the end of the fight.

 

He stays calm when the shot clips the left side of the ship. In a normal fight it wouldn’t have slowed him down. But the Galra’s weapons are advanced and it rips a hole in the cockpit, part of the ship catching fire in the process. He tries to aim the ship towards the Garrison in an attempt to keep from crashing in the middle of the desert. The smoke rapidly fills the interior of the ship despite the winds seeping through the large hole in the side makes it impossible to see as the ground rapidly approaches. 

 

At one point he closes his eyes, his hands on the controls despite the flames licking at his suit. He waits until the moment feels right and pulls up. It is something he’s done countless times in practice and even on missions. But he’s never done it blind before. If he times it right he might get enough momentum to not crash nose-first into the ground. 

 

The timing isn’t perfect. But when the ship crashes, he lives. Barely.

 

The smoke and fire are even worse once he gets his bearings after what was by far the roughest landing he’d ever done. He’s not sure if he passes out for a few moments after the ship hits the ground, but the height of the flames is a good indicator. 

 

He fumbles with his safety harness for longer than he wants before he’s able to fall out of the side of his cockpit with the gaping hole. He digs his fingers into the rocky sand and drags himself as far away from the fire and smoke as he can manage as his vision starts to darken. There’s no way to tell how far he gets before he passes out, he falls face-first into the sand as the world around him goes completely dark. 

 

His last thoughts are of Takashi. 

 

_ I hope there’s still an Earth when he gets back. _

 

+

 

When he wakes up, it is to more darkness. 

 

Adam tries to sit up, but finds his middle tightly wrapped and pain radiating out from a point near his ribs on the left side. With a groan he falls back onto the bed, which was when he realizes that he’s lying in a bed. He groggily thinks that is a good sign. If he was waking up in the desert he would be far more concerned than he is now.

 

His vision is blurry which is the biggest sign that his glasses are long gone. He turns his head to the side and finds a bent and cracked pair of glasses on a metal side table. He makes mental note. Or at least he tries to. In between one breath and another he sleeps again.

 

+

 

The next time he wakes up there’s a figure leaning over top of him, and a sharp pain at his side. 

 

“Shit, what’s going on?” He barely recognizes his own voice which is rough and grating in his ears. 

 

The figure above him shushes him and plants a firm and calloused hand on his chest. A few moments later a straw is pressed to his lips and he opens for it, greedily sucking down the lukewarm water. He has no idea when the last time was he had a drink of water but it feels like ages. The water is unceremoniously taken from him and Adam’s immediate reaction is to groan in complaint.

 

“If you drink too much too fast you’ll throw up, and that’ll hurt even worse than you do now,” a stern voice tells him. That same calloused hand reaches down and slides under his back, helping Adam sit up. The pain in his side flares back up but he grits his teeth. He wants to know where he is and what is going on. A little pain is worth that.

 

He looks around the room only to realize that without his glasses there isn’t much to see. Then in his blurry sightline his broken glasses are hung in front of his face. “Thank you,” he says as he takes them only to immediately slide them on. The world isn’t crystal clear but it is much better than before. 

 

The room is made entirely of dark metals, most of the structure exposed and looking as though it was more of an industrial complex than a hospital. “Where am I? How did I get here?” 

 

“Well, the night after the attack we found your ship on fire and you a few dozen yards away completely knocked out,” the woman starts to explain, perching on the edge of Adam’s bed. He notices that she has skin darker than his and dark brown hair streaked through with gray - but her eyes were a light gray and warm. “You are about thirty miles from the barrier, we are in an underground bunker that used to for storing ships before the Garrison expanded their facilities.” 

 

Adam adjusts his glasses, feeling a tightness in his chest at the mention of the Garrison. “What of the Garrison, of the attack?”

 

“They are still here, they are everywhere,” she explains, her voice tight but relatively restrained despite that. “The Garrison is safe, whatever sort of barrier is guarding it seems to be immune to the Galra’s weapons.” 

 

With a ragged exhale, Adam slumps forward only to sit straight again when the pain in his side sends a shock of pain through him. “Ah, damn, clearly I was injured,” he mutters as he looks himself over. His middle from hip to sternum is wrapped in bandages and the left side of his arm and face have numerous scrapes and bruises from what he can see. 

 

“You got lucky from the looks of it, you have a pretty large burn on your left side but your suit seems to have insulated you from the worst of it,” she explains as he stands up, rounding to his left side and carefully grasping his arm. She forces Adam to fully extend his arm, giving both of them the full view of the underside of his arms which are pink and covered in scrapes and bruises. “A lot of cuts and bruises, and you had a pretty nasty concussion - kept you in and out of consciousness for a few days, well with the help of some drugs.”

 

Adam blinks a few times at the flux of information. “Days? Any news from the Garrison, from anyone?” He wants to know what is going on out there. He is supposed to be out there fighting. “I need to get back I need to -” 

 

He’s cut off by being pushed back down onto the bed. “You  _ need  _ to rest.” The gray eyes go hard as they look down at him. “We want to reach the Garrison as well, and we think you’ll be an asset for that - but we need you to be able to walk first,” she says as she rests both large, dark hands on her hips. “I’ll drug you again if I have to.” 

 

Realizing that he’s being impatient, Adam nods and forces himself to relax back against the bed. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you all get to the Garrison, it's the least I can do for you taking care of me like this.” He knows he would be dead if they hadn’t found him. It is a miracle that they had found him at all.

 

The woman’s expression soften as she looks down at him, and she pulls his blanket up while shaking her head. “You don’t owe us anything, we are all out here just trying to survive and the best way to do that is to take care of one another.” Her hands tuck in his blanket with the sort of practices that assures Adam she might be an old hand at corralling patients like him.

 

He finds that sleep sounds fantastic, so with clumsy hands he pulls off his glasses and puts them on the table next to his bed. “Thank you,” he says softly - not even sure if the woman is even still listening. As he drifts to sleep his last thought is that he didn’t ask her name. 


	3. A long journey home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alive, but injured, Adam starts the planning to get back to the Garrison and finds solace in helping any way he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much longer than the last two because I wanted this to be my last Adam-centric chapter. While this fic is very Adam-heavy the next chapter introduces the Paladins and Shiro instead of just mentioning them !
> 
> My brain short-circuited mid-edit so if there's any glaring errors I apologize and beg for everyone's patience.
> 
> Also thanks everyone for the ultra-nice comments, I appreciate them a lot!

The next time Adam wakes up there is a set of clothing neatly folded on the end of his bed and his glasses have been bent back into shape - though there is still a crack in the actual lenses. He puts the glasses on first and finds that nothing else about the room has changed. Though he is uncomfortable not knowing how much time has passed. 

 

Dressing takes longer than he likes due to limited mobility in his left arm and pain everytime he twists his torso the wrong way. But he manages to pull on on the pants and t-shirt left for him, grateful that there’s also a jacket to ward off the chill. Adam wonders if it's night or if they are just deep enough underground for it to be this cold. 

 

He leaves his room and doesn’t see anyone, but there’s only lights leading in one direction so he follows those. Quickly enough he hears voices and a few minutes later he walks into a large room that he’s sure once stored ships but now seems to be storing people. A lot of people.

 

He’s struck still as he takes in the sheet number of people who are milling around. Small camps where families and people who know each other are gathering. Children’s voice rise up occasionally and there’s an underlying sound of people talking.

 

Adam sways as he stands, almost knocked over by the wave of relief that catches him by surprise. There’s far more people than he expected to find. It gives him hope. He’s so glad that the Galra hadn’t been able to wipe everyone out in their surprise attack. 

 

He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, willing this knees to feel less like jelly. Straightening to his full height and pushing his shoulders back he walks into the large room. He can feel eyes on him almost immediately but it takes a few moments for someone to approach him.

 

A girl who looks roughly seventeen or eighteen jobs up. “Hey, are you from the infirmary, you don’t look familiar?” She questions while looking him over through a messy fringe of bangs. 

 

“I am,” Adam answers with a curt nod. “Is there someone around here that’s in charge or who I can talk to in order to get updated on what’s going on?” He wants to ask for the doctor who had been taking care of him too. For now the most important thing is offering whatever services he has in order to help these people. 

 

“Uh, yeah, there’s a group of people who have been running everything I can take you to them if you want?” The girl offers, crossing her arms in front of her chest with an air of forced nonchalantly surrounding her. 

 

Adam cracks a small smile. “That would be great, thanks.” 

 

With her chest puffed up the girls leads him to what once was offices by the looks of it. She introduces herself as Keisha and explains that no one was really in charge but there was a group of people who took charge. Adam listens intently and tries not to worry about he was going to help so many people get safely to the Garrison. Despite his best efforts a cold sweat breaks over the back of his neck. He tries to attribute the feeling to his body still recovering from the crash.

 

He’s brought to a room with half a dozen people who are sitting or standing around a central table. All eyes turn to him as soon as he opens the door. Taking a deep breath he forces himself to focus. 

 

“My name is Adam Wohali, i’m a pilot from the Garrison - how can I help?” 

 

Immediately the faces around the table split into smiles and he steps in and lets the door close behind him with a soft click.

 

+

 

He ends up standing in that room for hours strategizing. There are a lot of half-baked plans to talk through and dismiss when one of them realizes a fatal flaw that would likely kill them all. It is not very encouraging when every plan ends with the Galra finding and killing them. But no one seems willing to give up, and Adam finds their optimism fuels his own.

 

Despite that, his body still demands rest.

 

After explaining an aspect of the Galra technology that he knew Adam suddenly finds himself swaying hard enough he has to grip the side of the table to keep himself upright. His movement doesn’t go unnoticed and he’s swiftly pushed into a chair by the man to his left named Reggy. 

 

“Someone go get Salma, her shift should be starting soon anyways,” Reggy orders as he keeps a hand on Adam’s shoulder. 

 

“I’m fine, really, my legs are probably just not used to standing after being in bed for so long,” Adam argues, trying to stand up before finding himself pushed back against the backrest of the chair once more. 

 

“We don’t want to get on Salma’s bad side, so just sit for now, and keep telling us about these fighter ships of theirs,” Reggy suggests with a kind but unyielding smile. 

 

Adam signs, but doesn’t fight back against sitting. Instead he launches back into his detailed explanation about the Galra fighters and what he saw were their weak points from his brief battle with them. 

 

Not ten minutes later the door opens up and the same woman from his bedside walks in with an unamused expression on her face. Adam comes to the conclusion that this is Salma and that she is not happy with him for ducking out of his room as soon as he woke up. 

 

She walks right up to Adam and shakes her head with a long-suffering sigh. “You were blown out of the sky less than a week ago and you’re already pushing yourself? Does the Garrison does not teach you the need to heal?” Salma pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to inspect the bandages on his arm. 

 

Adam stays silent, positive that these are not questions he is supposed to be answering. He knows there is no correct answer to them.

 

Salma jerks up his shirt and jacket, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Adam. She prods at his side gently but that makes him bite back a second cry. “The burn here is still healing you need to be careful not to tear the stitches where we put on the synthetic skin, it won’t be healed for another two or three weeks,” she explains as she pulls back and lets his shirt fall back down. 

 

“Try and sit as much as possible and I’ll get one of the kids to follow you around to help you.” No one in the room tries to argue, so Adam doesn’t either. He has a feeling Salma is not a force to reckon with. 

 

“I’ll try and keep the movement to a minimum, I just want to help in any way that I can since you all risked your lives to save me.” He knows it couldn’t have been easy to sneak out to his ship and drag him away. Even if the Galra had pulled back their technology was so advanced it wouldn’t be a stretch to think they could monitor the entire planet - or at least the area directly surrounding the Garrison. 

 

With a scoff Salma shakes her head at him. “The human race needs to stick together, stop acting like saving you is something you owe us.” Her words are met with a murmur of agreement from the rest of the people in the room. 

 

He stays quiet again, not sure how to respond to such genuine kindness. “Still, I want to help how I can - so let’s get back to how we can avoid the Galra fighters.” He can’t actually go out and fight right now but he hopes maybe he can help anyone who can.

 

+

 

The next few days are a blur, he spends all of his time either sleeping or helping out with the strategies of how to get food and other survivors. He had been unofficially welcomed into the fold of decision makes when he admitted he wasn’t only a pilot but a teacher at the Garrison and one of its highest ranking pilots. It meant he was even busier, but that was exactly what Adam needed.

 

He’s going over defense strategies with the people who are in charge of all of their weapons and vehicles when the topic of conversation nearly sends him into a panic. 

 

“What is your flight suit made out of? It clearly could take a hit.” Someone asks him that and Adam intends on answering. But then he remembers his flight suit was never returned to him and nearly throws himself out of his chair.

 

“My flight suit, what did you do with it?” He demands, his eyes wide and nearly frantic from behind his glasses. 

 

Josiah, a member of the council that he has been spending time with, tries to calm him down with little success. “I’m assuming you had to be cut out of it, it was nearly attached to your skin where you were burned from what Salma said.” His hands grip Adam’s biceps in an attempt to calm him down.

 

Adam strains against the hold, vaguely conscious of not wanting to aggravate his injuries but bordering on not caring if he did. “Please, I need to know what happened to it, I had something important in one of its pockets - it's irreplaceable,” he grips onto Josiah in return, practically begging him as he sways against his grip.

 

Pitying eyes look over his face and those hands squeeze Adam’s arms again. “I’ll ask Salma and her medical team, for now, sit down and take a few deep breaths.” 

 

He finds himself led to the chair he was sitting in earlier, before his realization. Despite agreeing to sit he is hardly still. His leg bounces with frantic energy and every person that walks in the door drags his attention away from his current conversation. He can’t stop berating himself mentally for not remembering sooner, which makes him give half-assed answers to most of the questions he’s being asked. He wants to feel guilty but he is simply too distracted.

 

His suffering goes on for another two hours. 

 

He’s shuffled out of the vehicle bay and to the makeshift cafeteria in the meantime. Usually he is not one to forget to eat but the last few days have been busy and today is no exception, with an added distraction on top. He has to be cajoled to eat but does manage to swallow down half of his meal before anxiety causes his stomach to knot up beyond the ability to eat.

 

The sound of a throat being cleared behind him causes Adam to turn around from where he’s picking at a dinner roll. Salma stands behind him with one raised eyebrow and fabric folded in her hands. 

 

Adam has to bite back the urge to lunch for the fabric, but Salma extends her hand and gives it over to him before the urge overtakes him.

 

“Let’s just say you’re lucky we are too short on supplies to throw anything out, if we were at the hospital I would have likely had that burned by now,” she sighs. “What was so important that I was told you looked like you might pop your stitches?”

 

While she talks Adam is fishing around in the suit until he’s able to get into the inside, where a small pocket is hidden. He lets out a sigh of relief when he slips his fingers inside and feels the familiar metal. Wordlessly he pulls out the ring and holds it in his open palm. Though slightly blackened from soot it still holds its shape and most of its shine. 

 

Salma’s expression softens and she moves to take a seat next to him. “Something very important then.” 

 

Adam nods and fiddles with the ring, but it doesn’t dare put it on. “Yes, extremely, its irreplaceable,” he agrees, trying not to wince at how raw his voice sounds. He closes his fist around the ring and focuses on the familiar shape as it presses almost painfully deep into his palm. “It goes against regulation to wear jewelry of any sort on important missions so I had to put it in the pocket, I thought I lost it,” Adam admits, hanging his head to avoid eye contact. 

 

A warm hand curls around his shoulder in response and he automatically leans into the touch. “Thank you for finding it, I’m not sure what I would have done if I truly lost it.” He knows he would have gone to great, likely stupid lengths to get it back. Even if it meant venturing back into the desert in order to find it. 

 

Salma’s hand squeeze his shoulder once. “Better keep it somewhere safe then,” she says, her eyes meaningfully looking at his hand. “I’m not having one of my nurses dig through old clothes for it again.” 

 

He feels oddly guilty as he starts to toy with the ring again. He doesn’t have any right to wear it. But to explain that to someone that was a relative stranger, even to someone who wasn’t, he just didn’t think he had it in him. “You’re right, I won’t be piloting any time soon after all,” he eventually agrees, sliding the ring back on its old home on his ring finger. The weight is foreign after not wearing it for years, but he ignores it for now.

 

“Right, you still need to let those stitches dissolve,” Salma agrees happily as she pulls her hand away. Adam gives her grateful smile as he covers his left hand with his right, not sure if he can take looking at the ring right now without getting too sentimental. 

 

He forgets to take the ring off the rest of the day and continues to wear it, always telling himself it was because that was the best way to make sure he didn’t lose it again. 

 

He never considers going to ask someone for an alternative way to keep the ring. 

 

+

It takes another week, but eventually they form a plan. 

 

Most building that were once in use by the Garrison used to be connected to it via tunnels. They decide that the best thing to do is to try and find one of those tunnels and try and transverse them back to the Garrison. 

 

The biggest issue is that Adam doesn’t have the locations or layout of the tunnels memorized. He is positive that the bunker they are in likely has a connection to them. But the tunnels haven’t been property used in decades and there’s no telling where exactly the old connections to them are. Someone brings up the chances of the Galra having already found the tunnels as well. It is another risk that they have to consider.

 

In the end, they decide to try for the tunnels. 

 

They have the supplies necessary to wait out the Galra. But if they are found, they don’t have the weapons to defend themselves. The few weapons they have are older technology, likely unable to do anything against the Galra other than annoy them. It isn’t the best choice, but in the end using the tunnels turns out to be their only choice.

 

Adam volunteers to be a part of the group to venture into the tunnels once they find them. He’s quickly denied due to both his lingering injury and the fact that he’s the only person from the Garrison in the entire group. If they need someone to open doors or figure out where to go, he needs to be able to do that. Risking his life won’t allow that. 

 

He was never good at sitting and doing nothing though. So he decides not to sit and do nothing.

 

Instead, Adam trains anyone and everyone willing. On how to use a gun, on self-defense, on basic battle tactics - anything and everything he can remember. He was part of the Garrison’s best team of pilots, he was one of their best over all. And while this wasn’t an expedition to a new asteroid or to drop beacons near a planet, he still had enough experience that he felt it worthwhile sharing. 

 

He also enjoys the look on one of his student’s faces the day he’s cleared for moderate exercise, when he’s finally able to show that while wiry he’s more than capable of flipping any of them over his shoulder. 

 

He had learned how to do that move on  _ Takashi  _ of all people, he could manage a few scrawny teenagers. 

 

Eventually, the tunnel entrance is found sealed in a part of the hanger that clearly had not been in use for decades. They open it over the course of a few days in order to make as clean and quite of cuts as possible. 

 

Adam stands at the entrance to the tunnels to see off the expedition party. He arms them with all the information he can. They are supposed to start a map of the tunnels to try and get their bearings. Thirty miles of space could hold far more distance in tunnels after all. 

 

He stands there long after the truck they took with them has disappeared into the darkness, feeling more useless than he has in years. Someone asks him a question that drags him away from the tunnel, his work wasn’t done yet.

 

\+ 

 

The expedition team returns two days later with the start of a map, and a trunk full of slightly outdated weapons. 

 

Adam and a few others who have handled weapons before decide that they have enough supplies to teach small groups how to shoot. 

 

Teaching was something that gave him purpose, and he feels far better showing a boy that is roughly the same age as Keith would be how to shoot an old rifle than he has since he woke up. He finds a mixture of pride and hope instead of dread when he watches these people forced underground by the Galra work to take back their planet. 

 

\+ 

 

As the weeks pass the map of the tunnels grows more and more immense. A large copy ends up being put up in the war-room of sorts that has formed. Adam still can’t pinpoint any familiar spots even with descriptions adding on what the expedition teams find and what sort of buildings the tunnels attach to. 

 

There are multiple close-calls with the Galra. But the expedition teams are small and they always run at the first sign of the Galra. Still, the close-calls and lack of heavy weaponry puts everyone on edge. Each time a team goes out there is a constant vigil of someone watching the entrance to the tunnels to make sure that they come back. 

 

One day, the expedition team is late. 

 

They are extremely late, and a second party starts to form in order to go find them. A half hour before the second party is supposed to leave, there’s shouts that signal the first party has returned. 

 

Instead of supplies on the back of the truck there are three injured people, one wearing a Garrison uniform. The woman wearing the Garrison uniform is unconscious and has a few scorch marks from Galra weapons, as do two of the four expedition members. Everyone who's injured is taken to the designated hospital wing, while the rest are given dinner and made to sit down and explain what happened. 

 

The tale is one of amazing luck on the part of the Garrison officer. A loud explosion drew the attention of the expedition party. When they arrived one Galra sentry was down and another was shooting at the Garrison officer. With five guns firing on the sentry it eventually went down, but not without knocking out the Garrison officer and clipping two of the expedition team. 

 

The good news is that the Garrison has the same idea as them. The bad news is that the tunnel the Garrison was using was sealed off by an explosion. There is a great deal of hope that the officer they found might know a way back to the Garrison. 

 

Following the same protocol that they have for weeks, the map is updated and the next expedition is planned for two days from then - barring any complications from the officer waking up and telling them otherwise. 

 

+

 

Adam volunteers to sit in the officer’s room and wait for her to wake up. He doesn’t know her personally, but he remembers seeing her on base and figured a face from the Garrison might be reassuring. Better than the Galra at least.

 

He’s reading through one of the few books the bunker has when she wakes up. He folds the page and carefully sets the book on his lap as she groggily wakes up. With some amusement he wonders if he didn’t look the same when he was coming to.

 

“Ugh,what time is it?” She rubs at her eyes, blindingly reaching for her glasses beside her.

 

He reaches out to pick them up and puts them in her hand. “Here you are, it is about three in the afternoon,” he answers carefully, waiting for her to put on her glasses.

 

“Oh thanks, man I didn’t mean to - wait, what?” She stops herself mid sentence and looks at Adam intently. Something clicks in her head and she scrambles to sit up, stopping from the stretch she was partway into. “Where am I? What is going on? Oh no, the train - did the train get away?” 

 

He waits until her voice has died down before answering her string of questions. “You’re in an old aircraft hangar about thirty miles from the Garrison, our scouting team found you after they hear an explosion - I’m sorry, I don’t know about any train.” Adam decides he has to try and be patient, as much as they want, no need answers, she did just go through something traumatic. 

 

“Wait, you’re Adam Wohali - we thought you died!” She exclaimed while adjusting her glasses, all the while leaning in to get a slightly better look at him. “You don’t look very dead.” 

 

Adam can’t help but let out a surprised but amused laugh. “No, i’m not dead, though I was shot down by the Galra so it was a near thing,” he agrees, smiling warmly. “The people here found me just like they found you, and I think that you can help us get all of us back to the Garrison.” 

 

His words are met with a bright smile. “Of course! I was in charge of guiding the group to get supplies for the Garrison.” 

 

Reaching out Adam holds his hand out. “Then I look forward to working with you…?” 

 

“Veronica, my name is Veronica,” she responds, grabbing his hand firmly and giving it a shake. “Man is everyone going to be glad to see you alive.” Veronica laughs as her hand falls away. 

 

“I think they’ll be just as glad to see you alive as well,” he agrees, his chest expanding with the knowledge that they had a chance to get back to the Garrison again. 

 

\+ 

 

The next few days Veronica is confined to a bed while she heals. So the maps are brought to her and she gives them the map that she has. It takes some time to connect the two, but eventually they do. The fastest route besides the recently closed one will take almost twice as long, but they have a clear path to the Garrison at least. 

 

Then, the packing begins. The entire hangar becomes a flurry of movement with everything important being packed up and put on wheels. 

 

Adam helps Veronica make copies of the map, as well as organizes people trained with their limited weapons to be stationed at certain points along their convoy. They would try and move continuously to fend off being found by the Galra. Constant vigilance and a rotation was key to not being taken off guard. 

 

It takes days before the hangar is declared packed. Every vehicle that can be gathered from the nearby town is brought underground and loaded up with people and supplies. The doors from the outside to the hangar are sealed shut after much argument. No one wants to lock innocent people out, but neither do they want to give the Galra easy access to follow them either. 

 

Two days, it takes two days for the convoy to get to the Garrison. 

 

They encounter seven separate Galra sentry pairs. Each time they are taken down by the focused fire of every gun that can see them. A few vehicles are destroyed, some people injured, but no one dies and most importantly the Galra can’t follow them. Every encounter causes tensions to run high and doubt to creep into people’s minds. But they continue to push on, helped immensely by Veronica’s assurances that the closer they get to the Garrison the less likely they were to run into any Galra. 

 

Luckily, she was right. 

 

The front of the convoy turns a corner and they come face to face with two Garrison soldiers, both pointing guns at the first vehicle. Adam and Veronica both immediately jump out of the car and approach. 

 

“No, no - we’re friendly!” Veronica says firmly, waving her hands in an x-shape. 

 

“Stand down, my name is Lieutenant Wohali, these are rebels and civilians from nearby coming the Garrison to seek aid,” Adam says immediately after Veronica, both intent on not letting gunfire erupted. 

 

There’s a long moment of awkward silence before one of the soldiers lowers his gun. “We thought you were both dead, we’ll escort you to the next set of guards.”

 

Adam and Veronica turn to each other and share matching grins. Both continue on foot with the guards, knowing that they would have to continue to explain who they were and how they were there. 

  
But they had done it, they’d made it back to the Garrison  _ finally _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> Wohali is the last name given to Adam since we didn't get one in canon. It was found by another good friend of mine who is far far better at researching names and who found it after I shared a head canon about Adam being native american. His name is specifically Cherokee and while I am not of Cherokee decent I am going to try and be as respectful about the use of the name and heritage as I can !


End file.
